Other People
by TotalAlias
Summary: Xerxes Break was a "one-man show". He always had been, for as long as Reim had known him. He had always distanced himself from other people. But "other people" doesn't include Reim, did it?


Wow, it's been so long since I've posted anything, I'm sure you all have forgotten about me! ^^' But it's high time I started writing again anyway. So this is a birthday present for my lovely beta and great friend, MirrorDede, because she is just that amazing. :D

If I owned Pandora Hearts, it would look a lot more like this fic. ;)

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><p><span>Other People<span>

Rain poured softly outside, tapping out an unrecognizable melody on the Rainsworth rooftop and washing clean the windows of Reim's bedroom. Not that they needed cleaning, by any means. Even though it had been so long since his residence at Rainsworth, they had always kept a room prepared for him. He had always been one of the family, he supposed.

Willing open heavy eyeids, he was met with a blur of color and various shapes with dulled edges.

He reached toward his left on impulse and found his glasses right where they always were, on the bedside table. Bringing them to their rightful position atop the bridge of his nose, he lifted his head to see the moon shining weakly through the window. So another day had passed.

Reim hadn't the slightest idea how long he had been lying there, but it must have been quite a while because he had woken several times already, only for the room to fade away and reappear at a different time of day. Reinforcing the notion, his wounds no longer burned. He ached, to say the least, and his head throbbed, but his body lacked the acute sting of a fresh wound.

It must have been a considerable amount of time, then, since Lily had nearly killed him.

And she'd nearly killed Xerxes, too.

His memories after leaving Xerxes outside the estate were few, so he must have lost consciousness quickly. But he did remember hearing Lady Ada repeatedly voice her concern for Vincent, Gibert and Master Elliot. Gilbert had seemed fine for the brief time Reim had seen him, but he wondered what sort of danger Vincent and Master Elliot could be in, and how they had gotten mixed up in this business of Baskervilles, sealing stones, and Head Hunters.

These were surely horrid times Reim had awakened in. He almost wanted to go back to sleep. But holding him fast to consciousness were thoughts of a one Xerxes Break. Lady Sharon's assurances through Lady Ada's shadow hadn't been very convincing. Apparently he had fainted soon after Reim's departure, and was bleeding heavily through Gilbert's bandages. That certainly didn't sound like he would be "just fine."

What was even more alarming was that it was so uncharacteristic of him. Collapsed from injury? Xerxes? Such nonsense. Xerxes Break was nearly invincible. Using Mad Hatter always takes a toll on his health, but even so, he always wins his battles, and by a large margin at that.

This time, however, if Reim hadn't distracted Lily...

And Gilbert had been with him. Xerxes and Gilbert had been fighting together. Reim knew, without a doubt, that Xerxes had in no way asked for such assistance. Had the battle taken a turn for the worse? Why had he even been outside fighting in the first place? And fighting the Baskervilles? Shouldn't he have been protecting Lady Sharon?

_Oh_.

Xerxes always had a very strong sense of loyalty. It never failed, though the man would deny it to the end. The denial was a form of protection, Reim supposed, to avoid growing too attached to other people, because of his former master and the girl after whom he named his doll.

He would never say as much, but Reim was sure of it. Xerx made sure to label every friendship as "mutually beneficial cooperation" and shied away from emotional dependence of any kind.

But then he so cheerily announced on more than one occasion that Reim was his best friend, and whats more, his only friend. The latter statement was entirely untrue, of course. Xerxes had a good many friends. But that was what made it so startling, to hear such a declaration coming from him. Reim wasn't Xerxes' only friend, but he was the only one with the title. He was the only...

He was the only... _what?_

Whatever Reim was; whatever Xerxes saw him as, it had provided him with enough incentive to come down to the basement. And then outside. And let himself become so bloodied up that he lost consciousness despite recieving proper first aid.

And Reim had absolutely no idea how he was faring.

With that thought, Reim sat up with a groan and gingerly pulled his legs over the side of the bed.

He had things to do.

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><p>Despite the time that had passed, Reim could definitely feel the extent of his wounds as he made his way down the seemingly endless corridor.<p>

He lifted a weary arm to open the door to Xerxes' room. He hoped his friend would be there, but even more so did he hope that he was well enough to be up and out of bed (and, in that case, out of the room). Just how injured was he? Was it bad enough that he might still be in recovery? He wished Lady Sharon would be more specific with such important matters.

He eased the door open, half expecting him to be bloody and unconscious, but instead found himself looking straight into the single red eye of his very best friend, sitting in bed and looking no worse for wear.

"Ah, I thought I heard you coming."

"Xerxes!" he exclaimed, taken aback. "You're up."

"Yes!" The red-eyed man pointed at him dramatically. "...But I haven't been up for very long," he amended, dropping his arm and visibly deflating as he did so.

Reim rolled his eyes at his friend's antics, but allowed himself a laugh anyway. "Mad Hatter?"

"No, actually. It seems I was pretty well banged up from my little run in with the Baskervilles last week so..."

Last week? An entire week had passed already? The two of them had spent a full seven days in bed due to injury? And Xerxes had only just woken up?

"And you haven't heard a word I've said, have you? Stop cleaning your glasses and sit down."

Reim looked down at the cloth and pair of glasses in his hand. He didn't remember even reaching for them. Was that some sort of nervous habit? How often did he clean his glasses anyway?

He placed his glasses back on his now slightly reddened face and muttered some sort of half-hearted apology. Directing his attention to more pressing business, his aching head very much approved of Xerxes' latter suggestion, and he quickly found solace at the foot of the bed.

"How long have you been awake?" Xerxes asked him as he sat down.

"I've woken up a few times, but each was only for a short while. This time I'd say it's been about fifteen minutes." Reim watched closely as Xerxes' eyes swept over him, tracing over bruises and lingering on the few bandages he was still wearing. "What about you?"

"Fifteen minutes..." Xerxes repeated, voice so low it was almost inaudible, His face fell for a moment, but he recovered it just as quickly. He cleared his throat and added with a bright smile, "Oh, I woke up sometime yesterday."

Reim was no fool. After all these years, he'd be damned if he didn't know his best friend by now. "What's bothering you?"

"You know, Milady's going to have a heartattack when she goes into your room and finds you missing." He brought a hand to his mouth and chuckled darkly to himself.

He wasn't sure exactly why the thought of giving Lady Sharon a heartattack would elicit such a sinister reaction from the white-haired man, but he ignored it in favor of further pursuing the _original_ topic.

He reitterated, "Xerxes, what's bothering you?"

The man only looked at him with an incredulous grin. "Nothing's bothering me! Everything's going so well! This whole ordeal is over, we're both awake now, I think I can even hear birds outside!"

"It's raining, Xerxes."

And once he had been caught, he had been caught, and the carefree grin was immediately wiped from his face. His single red eye darkened considerably, but was quickly hidden by white hair as he fidgeted and avoided Reim's eyes.

"Xerx-"

"I told you not to get involved." His voice was considerably smaller now. As a matter of fact, he in himself seemed smaller now. There hadn't been any visible changes, but it seemed to Reim that Xerxes' entire being had grown so much smaller in that one instant.

"You knew I was going to look for the seal," Reim protested. "And you knew that it was potentially dangerous-"

"I didn't tell you not to do your job," Xerxes snapped. "I told you to do a job that wouldn't..."

He trailed off. Reim watched as his friend retreated into the safety of his bed with a scowl, turning to face the opposite wall.

"I'm really... relieved. Very relieved, you know. But it still would have been nice to know about your ace in the hole." Xerxes pulled the blanket up to his chin. He was so, so small.

Small and fragile and _alone_. Alone? Reim was sitting right next to him, why did he look so alone?

With a sigh he shifted until he was lying down as well. "Sorry," he whispered, recieving a small nod in return. That was as much acknowledgement as he was going to get from Xerxes Break, but he knew the man meant as much.

He didn't say anything after that; he wouldn't have known what to say anyway.

Minutes passed and still neither of them said anything. He had never been good with comforting words, but he was sure Xerxes had figured that out already.

"I told Milady," Xerxes said after a while. "About my vision."

"Did you? How did she take it?"

He still didn't turn around to face him. "Surprisingly well, actually. I really thought she was going to cry - well, she probably did and I just couldn't see."

And here he broke off into silence. He didn't speak again until Reim began tracing small patterns on his shoulder.

"But she smiled anyway. I could hear it in her voice. Even if she was crying she kept on smiling and said, 'I'll just have to teach you one step at a time.'"

Reim smiled, and there was more than a bit of pride in his voice as he said, "You see, I told you it would be fine."

"That you did. She's really all grown up now." Xerxes exhaled dramatically and peeked over his shoulder, "I'm getting old."

"Oh hush," Reim chided.

Xerxes really did 'hush'. And there was another minute or so of contented silence. Everything was so calm and still that Reim was beginning to wonder if his friend had fallen asleep, until he noticed something.

"'Teach you'? What was she teaching?"

Xerxes grumbled something unintelligible. "What?"

Oh, maybe he really had gone to sleep. He gently rubbed his friend's covered arm in apology. "Lady Sharon," he clarified softly. "She said she was going to teach you something?"

Xerxes yawned a very large, very loud yawn and rolled over to face his companion, propping himself up on his elbow. "Oh. To waltz. She had been watching couples in the ballroom and wanted me to dance with her."

"Did you?"

"Yes." He grinned. "And it went off quite well."

"Huh. I wouldn't have pegged you for a dancer."

"Well maybe I'll dance with you sometime; teach you a few things."

"Me?" Reim looked amused. "And here I thought you couldn't work with other people. 'One-man show' and all that." he said, poking his companion's shoulder.

"The key word there is _other_ people." With that, Xerxes rolled back into his previous position and pulled the covers back up. "I'm going to sleep, Reim," he said, leaving his friend to ponder this abrupt end to the coversation.

Facing the wall once again, Break waited silently for Reim to get up and return to his room. But he didn't. After muttering an awkward "goodnight," he just kept on lying there behind him and, as Break heard his breathing even out, eventually fell asleep.

He rather liked sleeping next to Reim. It was nice, especially after a night of not knowing if he would ever sleep next to him again. And even though he had nearly lost his mind, of course Reim had everything under control, like he always did, and they were going to be fine.

Break really had no idea how Reim had come to know _everything_, but somehow everything he said always turned out to be nothing less than completely and entirely accurate. And tonight was no exception. Break _didn't_ like getting close to other people, he _wasn't_ much of a dancer, and he was most _definitely_ a one-man show. But, he supposed, maybe there was room for one other man in his one-man show. Or maybe there had been a space for him all along.


End file.
